Hell's Half Acre
by primadonna cat
Summary: Sam Winchester's Journey in the Lands of the Dead
1. Chapter 1

This is my take on what happened to Sam from the time he fell into the pit until he reappears on Earth. All characters belong to the writers and creators of Supernatural.

There will be swearing typical of the show.

***Comments are love***

**Hell's Half Acre, or Sam Winchester's Journey in the Lands of the Dead**

_"Determined will is the beginning of all magical operations... it is because men do not perfectly imagine and believe the result that the arts (of magic) are uncertain, while they might be perfectly certain."  
-Paracelsus_

_**Inferno**_

Tumbling Tightness Trapped

Birdsong brightness breezy

Sweet sugar spices

Heaven

Dreams give way to the sounds of a summer morning and the gentle caress of gauzy curtains surrounding the enormous bed. Everything is white, soft; ethereal. Sweet smells like flowers or baked goods fill the air, and as he pushes himself to a sitting position he sees that the room is overflowing with white roses.

He lowers first one, then another foot cautiously to the smooth tiled floor. It too, is white and stretches from beyond the room he occupies to a wide and seemingly endless corridor.

There are no memories to access, this place is as much a mystery to him as who he is and how he got there.

Each time the man thinks he is nearing the end of the passage, it seems to grow farther away. After what seems to be ten minutes (or was it an hour) he turns left and enters a room. Inside, there is a mirror, and as he stares at his reflection for some indeterminate time he ponders his name. Weren't there two names he held? His eyes are somewhat blue and somewhat green, and so fascinated is he trying to count the flecks of amber within their depth, he is unaware of the rustle of wings coming from the doorway.

A noise like the sound of an approaching tornado encompasses the room and a voice speaks within his head.

"You're mine. You think you can walk freely here, when you stole my freedom?"

"I, uh, I can explain." Words tumble from trembling lips, a lie to buy time. Through the mirror he can see the monster behind him. It stands on two legs like a man, but there the resemblance gives way to slick oily skin, four eyes and a tail that twitches from side to side like an angry cat's. From the depths of his memory, its identity is known. The Morningstar, the fallen angel Lucifer, the Devil himself in his true form.

"Stop!" His feeble command is interrupted by an explosion of pain and an unearthly sound which brings him to his knees, as the screeching hits a perfect unearthly high note his location becomes apparent.

The horned creature has every advantage. The man, for he is certainly human and not angel, crawls to the wall and huddles where it meets the floor, as if he could ever make his long body into something small and unnoticeable. There is a whimper echoing on the cold floor, which is no longer white, nor tile, nor even clean. No, instead he sees filth on his hands as he raises them to protect himself from the Devil. Sharp claws pierce his flesh, and in an instant he remembers some story that was told to him of this place, and of another time when torture was dealt at the end of a knife blade. He tries in vain to access the memory, the person who told him this horrid tale, but the pain of having his lungs torn from his flesh is too present, too excruciating for him to bear. He wants to die, but knows there is no death, for this is death, this is eternal.

He knows he should be afraid, because he is already dead and this is most certainly Hell. But a new voice, deeper then his own and more silken, lulls him like Dorothy in the field of poppies. "Move on from this place". The voice seems familiar, but every thought he attempts to bring to the surface of his consciousness pales in the bright light.

Somehow, he is again lying in the fluffy, rose scented bed. He opens his eyes to mirror images of his own peering down at him. Yet when were his eyes ever so cold and devoid of emotion?

"You're lucky, my brother was about to smite you. He's not too happy being locked up. And with me."

"Where am I?"

"My Own Private Idaho. AKA, the Cage. You know, you opened the door, you let me out and then you opened the door and put me back in..."

"Lucifer."

"Always with such contempt, it means light bearer, you know." The fallen angel sits at the edge of the bed looking more bemused than angry. "I see that your brain is finally making a recovery. It was a little touch and go there for awhile, never thought you'd wake up. Or that maybe you'd become some sort of half wit."

"So, back there, in that room, that was Michael?"

"You're a quick study Sammy. Yes, and in his true form no less, which at least proves my theory right."

"What's that?"

"You still have your two eyes. And the rest of you. I can't protect you from Michael, and I'm not so sure I should. I mean, Sam. Two millennia I've worked to find the right human and the right conditions to free me from this place, and you had to go and ruin it all. It makes me very angry."

The white suited angel leaned forward to caress his vessel's chin.

"So disappointing. I thought you'd be different from the rest, a little higher up the food chain than a common cockroach. Sammy, you were made in my image. Foolish really, we could have done so much."

"Oh yeh, like burn the world."

"No, that was Michael's plan. Did you ever think to ask me mine?"

"Do you ever tire of the sound of your own voice?"

"Now that sarcasm, so unnecessary. It isn't going to get you anywhere. Not in here. This, everything you see? My Matrix. You like this soft bed? It's my creation. I was going to give you everything you ever wanted. Your family, your mother, even Jess. Here, you still can have anything you want. "cept out.

"I. Don't want. Anything! From you. Never asked for this destiny." His eyes were misty now. "I just wanted to be normal."

"You were born a vessel, less a human, more an angel. Normal, was never on your plate."

"Don't give me that crap, you hate us."

"True. My father tired of his older children and wanted new playthings. Why? Weren't we good enough for him? He made us perfect, beautiful, gave us divine grace, and still. He made you little apes so damaged, so capable of heinous acts that would rival any demon, and with so little grace some of you could never even imagine Heaven. Why make such flawed creatures? Why disturb the universe? But the worst thing? Being asked to bow before such filth."

His mind recalls another who would have begged the fallen angel to stick the self-pity where the sun doesn't shine. That being had chutzpah enough for the both of them and Sam found himself laughing, just slightly, at the idea of him irritating the whiny being.

"Why do you laugh, Sam Winchester? You've cursed us all to this eternal pit. Michael and I've torn each other to shreds and reassembled at least a hundred times and that sanctimonious bastard still swears his obedience to our father. Still tries to kill me, every single day. Meanwhile you and that vessel child have been sleeping on and on for a century or so..."

"Adam is here?"

"Of course, remember, we dragged his sorry ass and Michael in with us."

Sam thinks back for a moment. Suddenly there are two men, one beaten, collapsed on the ground, another, possessed, righteous. The beaten one, there is emotion there-a connection, and a name.

"Dean? We hurt him?"

"_We _spared him his life. He's just fine. As is Adam."

"I wanna see him."

"He sleeps, like you did. I doubt he will wake anytime soon. He hasn't your constitution."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Sam, you've had demon blood your whole life, what exactly do you think is in that elixir?"

Sam is confused, a frown crosses his face; so Lucifer continues.

"My Grace. I used my Grace to make the demons. Their blood contains my power. Oh, don't look so shocked, it's a simple concept. My little F-you to my father. Don't tell me you never had contempt for your dad?"

"I might of hated my dad, might of taken off, but I never hurt anyone to piss him off. So...just stop with the comparisons, all right?"

"Whatever you say, my padawan. Just stay in this room, or Michael will carve you to pieces."

In the time it took to blink, Lucifer had vanished.

xxxxxxxx

Sam has no intention of remaining in the room. Spending eternity is a chamber more fit for a princess would not only be restrictive, it would be down right embarrassing. The only problem is, after what seems like weeks, Sam has yet to find a door. And each time he approaches the window, it grows further away. Yet, despite his frustrations, there is no urgency.

Maybe it's been weeks, months or years, but finally Sam discovers the secret to his egress is the same mind control he used for telekinesis; only now he thinks of where he wants to be coming to him rather than pushing it away. As he stares from his window at the impossible drop to the rocks below, he envisions the bottom being mere feet away, and with a literal leap of faith he is free.

Outside the confines of the mansion, the landscape resembles Mars, but the temperature remains comfortable and the air cool and sweet So Sam Winchester begins his trek to no where.

He is crossing an area where the red rocks are large boulders when he hears a sound like thunder. Since he has been here it has never rained, never stormed. He fears he knows exactly what is coming, and takes refuge behind an enormous outcropping.

The face before him is familiar, unlined and young. It takes him a moment to place the name of his younger half-brother. Though a human male, he senses the being is far from human; that this is just one form the being before him can take.

"Michael?" Sam swallows hard as he recognizes the face of his younger half-brother, worn by Heaven's fiercest warrior. Lucifer has warned him that Michael will be one seriously pissed off archangel. Sam already knows what happens when archangels feel wronged, they have a tendency towards violent creativity. Creative archangels brings to mind Gabriel, who may have killed in the name of justice, but always seemed to be on their side. _Our side_. Sam can see him now, his big brother Dean and it gives him strength to face the fearsome creature before him.

"It didn't have to be this way. We could have stopped it all."

"What makes you think you know how any of this was to come to pass? It was long foretold that Lucifer and I would fight, until you little maggots interrupted God's plan."

"God's plan? Are you kidding. God doesn't want his sons fighting and destroying the Earth. Why would you ever think that was so?"

"You insignificant prick, you know how many angels have ever seen my father, talked to him face to face? Four! Archangels, his first creation. And then you come along, and you, some simple minded baby, think you know what's best. The arrogance."

"You know you're starting to sound more and more like your brother." Definitely not the right thing to say. Michael was upon him in an instant. Fists of marble crushing Sam's facial bones instantly.

"Let me remind you of how you treated your brother." Michael grips him about the neck , choking off his air. "You don't know me, you never have, and you never will." Images of Dean, bleeding, gasping, flash before him.

Michael's gone, and Sam reaches his hand to feel his broken face and finds it whole. It is wet, not with blood, but tears. He is crying, loud child-like sobs when he pictures Dean broken. His own body over powered by demon blood and a crazy need to assert his will. He had choked Dean, pulled back before doing any damage, but still. And Dean had forgiven him, had always tried to save him from his own evil self. What had he given him in return? Dean should have hunted him, should have ended him before he unleashed this evil upon the Earth. He walks a few miles before taking rest on a smooth flat stone. He doesn't know where he is going, or even what the point of his journey is, but he knows one thing for sure, Hell is a place where he belongs.

xxxxxxxx

He isn't sure who is after him, both have the face of a lion and the talons of eagles. One clamps his large jaws around Sam's torso and the other goes for his throat. "Oh God please." He begs before he can speak no more. One of them, whose face morphs into something vaguely representing a man, removes a piece of his intestine from his mouth before speaking.

"If God were involved, do you think any of this would be going on? Here, try this, it's delicious." He gags as his own flesh is forced passed clenched teeth. The pain is everywhere and as his body reassembles itself he is aware that the sky has taken on a sulfuric tone, the soil beneath him shifts and he is covered in writhing insects.

"Creative, Brother. Some maggots for the maggot." The one who speaks tears his arm from its socket and Sam screams over and over again until the other brother's beak like face pierces his larynx. The torture is endless. He suffers, dies, and is reborn. His pleas go unanswered. These are angry beings, and he is not beyond reason to find it ironic that they have found something to which they can agree. Unfortunately it is his torment.

Someone he loved also was tortured like this, but through his pain, he can no longer remember the name. All he knows is that he wants it to end, he'll give anything to be back in the safety of his chamber, anything. Fighting the smells of his bodily fluids he concentrates on the roses in his room, their color, the softness of the petals and the thorn less stems. He sees the soft bed and the gauzy curtains, and he loops this vision in his mind.

The room is not exactly as he remembered it, but it's been months, maybe years since he was there. The roses have all withered and dried. The curtains are faded and torn and the whole room has a musty smell of death. But he is whole again, clothed in white, but barefoot. The tiles beneath his feet are still cold, but grimy with filth. Somehow he wonders if this wasn't always truly so.

There is another human somewhere in this place. Younger, sleeping, who is he? Adam? Brother? Sam closes his eyes and concentrates on the young man who was dragged into the pit with him. When he opens his eyes he is in a chamber like his own, but cleaner. Again, there is the sweet smell of roses and the large white bed. Lying under the covers is a male human barely out of his teens, and Sam finds himself feeling the need to protect him. He is across the room in an instant and shaking the boy lightly. "Wake up, we have to get out of here."

"And go where?" A voice responds, but it is not Adam.

"Leave him alone." Sam turns to face the monster that had previously tortured him, but sees his own face instead. "He didn't put you here, he doesn't even know what he's doing."

"True, he doesn't exist. Don't look so confused, he is neither alive nor dead, not sleeping, not dreaming, just there, as you were for perhaps a hundred years. It would have been better if you had continued in your limbo. I will not hurt the boy, not now. But you, you don't like following orders do you?"

"You can't make me stay in that room."

"Obviously not, something's all fired up in you. But here's the deal. You might be some kind of powerful hybrid, but you're no match for an archangel. When I find you, and I will, you'll wish for what Michael and I were doing in that grotto."

"Then I guess I'll make sure you don't find me."

"You think those sigils Cas carved into your ribs work here? You aren't really corporeal." Lucifer laughed a short huff. "My Matrix, remember? Good luck avoiding us."

"What? You two on speaking terms now?"

The fallen angel picked at the blood in his nails, bored. "More like shouting, but yeh, when it comes down to hunting you. You might say we've formed an alliance. See you 'round".

In a flutter of wings the archangel is gone. Sam tries again to wake Adam. He considers taking his younger brother with him, but he doesn't even know where he is headed.

"I'll come back for you, promise." And with the will of his mind, he too disappears in a quiet rumble of thunder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Purgatorio **

_So we carry every sadness with us  
Every hour our hearts were broken  
Every night the fear and darkness  
Lay down with us_

But I am holding half an acre  
Torn from the map of Michigan  
I am carrying this scrap of paper

That can crack the darkest sky wide open  
Every burden taken from me  
Every night my heart unfolding

_**~Half Acre by Hem**_

Bright light, heat

Shiny memory

Hell

It's 12:15. The hands of the watch forming a right angle marking where time stopped. 15 minutes was all the time he needed to...he needed to? The memory is broken like the man that leans against the black car. Determined to call forth the memory, Sam sinks into his own mind, but nothing comes forth but flashes of blood and bone. Torture. He can not reassemble the pieces, like that painting, what was it, the one with the melting watch. Persistence? It is not of import. Who said that? He should know, but there's more blood and a cry of "no"! Wrath, hate, gone.

The ground beneath him is hard and small rocks dig into his back. Still confused, he shakes the dust from his hair and stretches. Had he actually been asleep? Or was it only an illusion?

It's ridiculously bright, like an exam room in a hospital, but it doesn't smell antiseptic. The faintest smell in the air is not pleasant, but he can't place it, though memory strains to call it forth.

This Hell isn't exactly what Sam had pictured in the last few years up top. He knew his actions would surely damn him. By the time he'd followed that demon bitch and sunk so low he'd let her kill that nurse so he could feed on her blood, he knew Heaven would no longer accept him. No, he knew further back than that, the painful urges towards violence that began in his teens, the anger, the righteousness. All these, and more, were marks of his heritage. He was an abomination, Hell spawn of sorts and now he was home. Maybe he was top dog here, able to control the others, the boy king. Hell, anything would be better than being Hell's Bitch.

The Hell Bitch, Lillith, the first demon. What an irony that to kill her was to free Lucifer. The memory of her dressed in white, laughing at him, calling him a failure, was all too easy to call forth. Hate giving it power to make it real, and what a pleasure it would be to kill her all over again. Lillith is more than dead, more than in Hell, she no longer exists. Still, if he only could. Some memories of his life were fuzzy, but never anything related to his bloodline, his birthright as the vessel of Hell, as its master.

Sam wanders for days. There is constant thirst, but nothing to quench it, but no dehydration either, and for the first time, Sam wonders if Lucifer was being literal with his claim this was the matrix. He hasn't eaten, slept, taken a piss, but he is fine. If you consider endless walking across a desert terrain the definition of normal. Sam thinks back to Lillith. If only he'd opened himself to his powers sooner. If he'd recognized her in Ruby's body. He imagines confronting her and tearing at the demon within. Sure he could extinguish her essence in a flash of light, but where's the fun in that?

And so when she appears before him in the form of the comely dental hygienist from Bloomington Indiana, Sam is not surprised. Like a tulpa, the belief makes it so. Gorgeous and blonde and out for blood, she can not win against him. Her screams seem as real as the flesh that burns from her bones. He is half way through his sixteen torture of the virtual demon when he is interrupted by the flutter of wings.

"Now what? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Don't get sassy with me, boy."

"Oh yeh," Sam's lips twitch into a macabre grimace. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Lucifer snaps his fingers and Lillith is gone. "I get it, you're angry. Need to vent a little steam. It's a good idea. I just.." He selects his words with deliberate care. "..don't want you to tire yourself, burn out. This, ingenuity, requires a power source that you can't access here."

"You mean blood?"

"Exactly. Lillith isn't real-"

Sam flexes his hand. "Felt real enough when I was ripping her heart out."

"Memorex, a creation made from left over energies in your brain. Do this too much and you'll fry your brain cells."

"I'm suppose to believe you? Look, as far as I'm concerned, this is MY matrix, my world, my rules. So leave."

Sam is up against the wall before he can blink an eye. "You insignificant prick! I am the master here." Fists of iron pound against Sam's flesh. He's about had enough when he feels the strangest sensation, deep within the pain is a feeling of euphoria like he experienced while torturing Lillith. He grabs hold and begins to taunt the fallen angel.

"I am the Master. This is my home. You're an evil, belly the ground serpent, a monster! You're not welcome here, NOW GO!"

Sam notices the blood trickling down his face is completely gone. His breathing is heavy, but his soul is light.

xxxx

In this Hell, Sam does not sweat. He wears the same worn work boots he had on when Lucifer joined him in his body. For all that he has walked thousands of miles, the boots show no wear, the red dust never lingers for long. Sam remembers Lucifer's words, that he is not corporeal. Everything here is an imagination. He considers conjuring up Lillith again for a little R & R, but thinks that would be just what the devil might want him to do; so instead he decides to do something he hasn't done since arriving here. He is going to pray.

Not to God. God isn't listening anymore, no Sam will pray to the one who loves him, his brother. Who has a name, and whose face now comes in clear when Sam thinks of him. Dean. For a flicker there is the memory of Dean beneath him, beaten, but Sam whisks it away and replaces it with the memory of Dean's surprised expression the time he'd glued his hand to a beer bottle. Oh the joy of little pranks, the simplicity. Then there was that time they'd been driving across South Dakota listening to the radio while counting the endless miles. It was like that now, mile after mile with no end in sight. Dean and he had stopped at precisely 2:18 AM when the DJ had stated the meteor shower would begin. They sat on the hood of the car and waited.

The night sky was filled with glittering stars like a thousand diamonds. They'd both just cracked open a beer when the first star shot across the sky streaking an impossible blue. It had been like Heaven, or so he had thought at the time having never actually have been there. But the Heaven Sam felt was not a place in space and time, but a place in his heart. It felt like Heaven because for an hour out of their crazy days, there was peace. There was no case demanding their time, no destination, just silent companionship under an endless sky. The feeling that something eternal watched over them, had bought them together; had wanted it that way.

Sam sits cross legged on the ground and lifts his palms skyward like an offering. "Dean, please know that I'm okay. I'm not suffering, I'm not in pain. Please Dean, go to Lisa. Have a good life. The one I know you've always wanted. You always pretended like it didn't matter, but I know you. You wanted out, you crave the civilian life, and no one deserves it more than you." Sam finds himself repeating over and over the mantra that he is alright, that everything will be fine.

It's hours later when he finally opens his eyes. He scoops up a few rocks from the area around him. They are all various shades of red. He is tired of red, always red. He's been tossing the red rocks into the distance for some time when he decides it's time for a change. Sam squeezes a rock in his palm until it feels hot to the touch. When he can't stand it any longer he releases it. The rock hits the dust with a dull thunk. Sam's in the process of grabbing another stone when he realizes there is something blue lying among the others. It's his rock, the hot one, but it's no longer a rock. It has turned into a mineral; it's now one large sapphire. His face lights up with pure delight as he palms more stones in his rough hands. One after another the gems litter the surface below his feet. Tired of the blue, Sam first tries an emerald, then topaz, and finally a diamond. Satisfied, he crawls up on a large flat rock, leans back and falls into dreamless sleep.

xxxxx

Weeks pass, or maybe months. The terrain is still dry rock, but it is now littered here and there by the color of the minerals Sam transforms with his will. Some glitter as if there was a sun shining upon them. Sometimes Sam wonders at the source of the day light here. He could wonder all day and have no answers, but the days are long and the answers few, and there is nothing for the man to do but wander and wonder and walk.

It really was the rock's fault. If you could call a boulder four feet high and twice as long with an indentation that cradled his body just so. The rock is really the most comfortable resting place Sam has found during his sojourn here. He decides he might as well stay a while, put down some roots. He is warm (though he does not sweat) and sleepy. He pillows his jacket under his head and lies back, says his daily mantra to Dean; then gives into his drowsiness.

When he awakes he is immediately aware that his surroundings have changed. The rock is gone, replaced by a soft and very long leather sofa. In fact, all of the rocks have disappeared, replaced by a shag rug over a tiled floor. Sam is inside a house. He wanders a bit only to discover the house has only one large room with a little kitchen with a refrigerator as its only appliance. In the living room the large screen TV comes to life. Sam is certain this is the work of Lucifer or Michael. But, what the Hell, might as well kick back and relax.

The TV only has one station: Biography, and only one show: "It's Your Life, Sam Winchester." He's fascinated to watch himself as a child being cared for by Dean. Dean, more a parent then a brother, the love and sacrifice played out in Hell's high definition making it overly obvious he'd been a selfish boy. Then there is the story of the first day of classes at Stanford and the professor who said he's only give one A a semester, and the satisfaction of being the one who earned it. Followed by the image of his younger self, and the bittersweet sadness of having no one he really cared about to share his triumph. This memory becomes sweet again when there is this girl, she has a name, in fact the announcer on the TV is introducing her as Jessica Moore. The announcer holds nothing back, reminding this audience of one how it was Sam's possessed friend Brady that made this happen. Sam doesn't care, he's lost in the nearly pornographic scene from his dorm room. So lost in the moment, Sam never hears the rustle of wings until he feels a cold chill hear his body. Standing in the middle of the room is his doppelganger, the fallen archangel, Lucifer.

"Leather. Impressive. Nice touch, those gemstones on the book case. You've built quite the place for yourself." Lucifer starts to sit and instantly a recliner catches his decent. There is a martini glass in his hand before his feet even make it to the foot rest.

"Martinis, my new passion."

"Why? Tired of beating on Michael?" Sam can't believe he is having a casual conversation with the fallen angel. "I'm in the middle of something.."

"Please, we have eternity, no rush." He sips from his drink and smiles, but there is no warmth, no love, and Sam can feel the real intent behind that look.

"What do you want?"

"Really, you should know by now, same thing you do."

"Oh yeh, what is that?"

"Out."

"S'not gonna happen, as you said, eternity. " Sam's hand gestures to the room he has created. "Might as well enjoy it."

"Here's the thing. I do, believe me, I've got the corner on the whole creative process down here. But you. Where should I begin? Human, maybe a little not human, demon blood in all, but for all intents and purposes-human. Mortal. Here by choice." Lucifer wrinkles his face in disgust, then continues. " One thing you can say about me, I've never actively chosen to be here. But you." Satan furrows his brow. "Perplexing".

"Didn't know I was here to amuse you."

"I don't belong here Sam, no more than you."

"You're not gonna give me that whole I'm your family spiel again are you?"

"You're brother schooled you all too well in the fine art of sarcasm. You like this? Take a good look." Anger is no longer hidden as Sam finds himself pinned to his seat. There's a loud pop and the TV explodes. Lucifer is on him in an instant. Sam expects to find himself eviscerated; instead he hears the hiss of his own voice in his ear.

"And God said, "let there be light". Sam faces the blue-green eyes of the angel who wears his face. Gone is the bemused expression, replaced with pure cold hate. "But you know what I say? Let there be darkness." There is a snap of fingers, an absolute stillness and a dark no light can penetrate. Sam can feel the icy breath of the fallen angel close by. "Let's see how great your trickery is now." And then his presence is gone.

xxxxx

Music calms him in the endless night. He sings all of Dean's music to himself as he passes the hours. Sam is paralyzed by fear in this dark place. Weeks pass before he dares to pray. He's worried Dean will know that he's frightened, and that isn't something he wishes to share with his brother.

Weeks, months, years later he thinks of the line: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." From a summer Bible correspondence pastor Jim set up for him and Dean one time when they were little. Dean did his lessons to impress a girl who lived in the apartment next door with a very devout mother. It still never gained him entry to her pants. Sam did his to learn more about the legends. That's how he saw God and Heaven then. He saw it as one more legend to master. But he found comfort in those words, and as he grew to know real darkness and evil within himself he made it almost as prayer.

Finally he prays to Dean. "Dean, remember that night under the stars. You told me they were diamonds and I very smugly replied that they were most certainly not carbon based, that they were gases, mostly hydrogen. You smacked my in the head and told me to loosen up, to have an imagination. Dean, I need that smack now. I need to see the stars again and call them diamonds."

Sam lays upon the flat rock he hasn't moved from in weeks, or months, or years. He wishes it could be a leather sofa once again, but Lucifer's powers overrode him and took away his fantasy. He wonders why Lucifer is so chagrined at his abilities. Wishing for something to throw, anything to help dispel his anger, Sam gets down from the rock and moves about what had once been his living room. A few steps later his boots crunch over small stones and he remembers what they once were. Eyes closed, he grips the little pebbles tightly and wishes, no demands, they take form as diamonds. Lucifer was angry he had power. There had to be a reason.

Minutes, hours, days later Sam drops the rocks in frustration. Nothing has penetrated the darkness. _The light can't overcome this_, he mutters to no one in particular. He takes the handful of stones that no longer contain magic and tosses them in a wide far arc.

He never hears them hit the ground.

Sam returns to his boulder and lies back to the sounds of "Back in Black" screaming in his head. His eyes have been shut, no reason to keep them open since he's no more than a blind man, but as he relaxes, a new song in his head takes over.

"Starry Starry Night". He wonders where that came from, not Dean's typical classic rock at all. And then he sees it. Where there had once been endless blackness above him, there is now sparkling diamonds. Stars! The stars blur and fade and Sam realizes he has tears in his eyes, moisture. There is hope, there is a reason to believe.

xxxxx

It's days or weeks or months when Sam first notices it, a faint fuzzy line far in the distance. He climbs off the flat rock and begins to walk. He now has a mission, find this fuzzy line and see what it is. As the day passes, the line never seems to change direction, it is always before him, but the sky changes. The position of the stars is never the same, and then Sam realizes he does have a way to mark time, to know the day from the night.

Slowly, what are weeks when you have eternity, the glow reveals itself to be a sun, which breaks free of the horizon and climbs steadily across the sky. The light has overcome the darkness. There are other changes as well. Here and there, little prickly shrubs litter the desert floor. They are the first signs of life Sam has seen since arriving. As the time passes the shrubs become more frequent and adventurous, one as tall as his thigh. It's hot now when the sun is overhead, and Sam thinks of a word he'd forgotten: noon. And he remembers that's the time Lucifer and Michael were to meet, that's when he made it all go wrong for the archangels. With a glance he sees the fixed hands of his watch, sees his brother's bloodied face. He stops, perches upon a rock and prays.

xxxxx

When Sam wakes, he blinks several times to clear the mirage from his vision, but it will not pass. Before him, there are coniferous trees ranging from knee high to twice as tall as he. Trees need water, which means, somewhere here there is a source. The desert finally gives way to a dry grassy meadow. Long stalks of grass poke at Sam through his jeans. The heat becomes uncomfortable, and that's when Sam first notices his headache and thirst.

The meadow is no less boring than the desert, but now Sam longs to see what may lie on the other side. He is rewarded sooner than he expected. Trees again are before him, beckoning him with cool shade. He reaches them and throws his tired body down; that too, is a new feeling.

It's there that he first hears it. Faint, but distinct, a sound he'd always loved from his childhood. He'd hated spending long days in the woods with his father and brother, waiting for a creature to shown itself. He wished he could be like normal kids who went the woods to pitch a tent and enjoy nature. Sometimes, when his father and brother asked him to wait quietly in a safe spot, he would pretend he was a Boy Scout on a camping trip. He'd listen to the sounds of the forest, wind rushing through treetops, the echo of birds, the trickle of a stream over rocks.

In the present, Sam jumps to his feet and makes his way towards the familiar sound. After cresting a small ridge, he sees it in the tiny valley below. Excited for the first time in ages, Sam trips and rolls his way to the bottom of the hill. His boots sinking deep in the muddy bank. He doesn't care. In the next instant he has both boots off and is splashing in the water like a little child. His laughter echoing through the woods.

The river is wider now, no longer just a stream, as it set its course downhill. Sam had been following it now for days. He knows them accurately, since now he has both sun and stars to mark the passing of time. He wonders how long he'll walk, or what he'll hope to find at the end of the river. Could he hope to escape? And where would he go?

xxxxx

Sam stares at he expanse of water before him. A small boat, no engine, just wooden oars, bounces in the water. He hasn't imagined the boat, it was there when he arrived. Sam sits carefully with the oars gripped tightly in his hands. He closes his eyes as if in deep prayer; when he opens them, his brother Adam lies curled up and sleeping in the bottom of the boat. Sam takes only a moment to see if Adam is breathing, then he pushes off from the shore.

It isn't a difficult journey., no worse then endless days or months crossing the red desert, and much more pleasant than the time spent in the darkness. Sam thinks nothing of the two angels that had tormented him. He fixes his eyes on the unmoving form of Adam and he rows.

The shoreline appears and slowly grows larger and more distinct. It's very green and lush with foliage, but no one seems to be on the beach. Once Sam grows closer, he spots a dock and aims for it. At the bottom of the boat Adam stirs and yawns. When only fifty feet or so separate them from the land, a man appears on the dock. He's old, brown, weathered, and in his hand is a pair of pruning shears.

His face is at once warm and smiling as he addresses Sam and his half awake brother.

"Welcome home boys!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Paradisio **_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_~"Blackbird" by The Beatles_

Water, the Spirit

Green Grace Sanctuary

Home

"Joshua?" Sam can hardly believe his eyes. If this was indeed the same gardener he and Dean had met months ago...he takes in the trees and shrubs surrounding him, like a garden. "Is this Heaven?"

There is a nod from the older man. "It took you some time, but you made it home, and with Adam too. Good job!"

Sam grasps the groggy younger man around his upper arm and helps him from the boat. "He needs some water."

"Or what? He'll dehydrate?" There's a soft knowing laugh. "Sam, you and Adam don't need anything, you're both dead."

"This doesn't feel like dead." Adam was already coming awake as they stepped on shore. "Will he be alright?"

"His soul is a bit in shock. It was never suppose to leave this place. It's best you go now, before he fully awakes and starts to ask questions."

Before Sam can speak aloud, Joshua answers.

"Michael and Zachariah used this poor boy to no end. It's time he gets his reward and some peace with his family. And that doesn't mean you. The real Adam doesn't know you, hasn't met you."

"But, what about when he was brought back to Earth?"

Joshua places his fingers on Adam's forehead. "He's about to forget."

Before Sam can protest further, both angel and brother are gone.

xxx

Sam hasn't traveled far down the axis mundi before he finds what he's looking for, a run-down trailer surrounded by desert shrubs and sand. He whistles twice and a floppy haired golden retriever comes from behind the trailer. "Bones! Come mere you old boy."

The crap old trailer looks just the same as it had a dozen years ago, when it was part of a park on the outskirts of a little town not too far from Flagstaff, Arizona, but to Sam it is a palace. He's pretty certain no archangel is going to butt in this time and tear him a new one, or mess with him and leave him in darkness. He's got a TV here, in his created paradise, and it may not be LCD, but it plays any program he wants, even including Casa Erotica. There's cold ones in the fridge, and never a hang over. Sam's pretty content, settled, even forgetful. He's no longer counting days, or weeks. The sun seems to rise and set, but it's of no import. And for the life of him he can't place who said that.

In Heaven, which looks like a dumpy trailer in Flagstaff, Sam stops praying.

xxxx

It's days, or weeks, or maybe even years later, and Sam's opening what could be his fifth or his tenth beer, who recalls when you never get hung over, never get a beer gut? But for all his comfort in his eternal resting place, he hasn't completely lost his edge. When the doorbell rings, he takes up a knife from the kitchen drawer, wary and ready to spring into action if needed. But Bones is yapping at the unseen intruder with more curiosity than worry. So Sam shrugs and puts his beer bottle on the counter, but not the knife. He makes a mental check list of possible threats, ticking Lucifer and Michael off immediately, then...what was his name? Zachariah, oh yes, the one Dean killed. Not likely to be Joshua, never leaves his garden, or Cassidy, no no, not Cassidy, no, it's Castiel, that was his name.

Minutes have passed, and the doorbell rings again. Sam comes out of his stupor at the sound of a male voice. "Pizza. Pizza for Sam Winchester."

"Who is it?"

"Open the door and let me in." Is all he hears in reply. Sam opts for following directions and is greeted by a teen aged boy a head shorter than himself.

"I didn't order pizza." The delivery boy doesn't seem to care that Sam stands at the ready, knife in hand, just pushes his way in, places the pizza box on the coffee table and plops down on the couch, making himself at home.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

The pizza boy is unmoved by Sam's anger. "Left off anchovies, never actually met anyone who liked them, well there was that one guy in Italy, oh, what was his name, that's right, DaVinci."

"Da Vinci liked anchovies?"

"That was the least of his vices. Let's just say, this visage, more his speed than ole Mona."

"Yeh. You know that wasn't her name."

"No shit genius, and I ain't a pizza boy." The door, which Sam had left open when he followed the boy and the pizza into the living room, suddenly flew shut, moved by invisible hands. "I'll take a beer while your up."

Sam is staring at the arrogant teen, there is something familiar there, something powerful. When he turns from the fridge to ask his guest which brew he prefers, he's so shocked by the newcomer's appearance the bottle he is holding slides from his grasp and hits his big toe. "Son of a bitch!"

"I've been called a lot of things in my day Sammy, but that's a new one."

Sam stands at his full height, the pain in his toe completely gone, and comes face to face with the archangel Gabriel.

"You're alive?"

""Well no, not technically. This is Heaven, Sam." Gabriel stuffs pizza into his mouth and continues between swallows. "It took some time to locate you, what with the power vacuum and me being incognito."

"So, you're just going hide out; let Heaven go crazy, just like you let your brothers run all over the Earth."

"I'm a POW. It's not my fault that Michael screwed the pooch and got himself locked up in Hell. Serves him right, if you ask me. But if you think I'm stepping forward to take his place? Think again. Not my job, and certainly not my problem."

"Then why the Hell are you bugging me?"

"Easy tiger! I just came to bring you a fruit basket." The angel snaps his fingers and a gaudy bright orange basket appears on the previously empty kitchen counter. "You caged not one, but two archangels. Makes you MVP."

"Yeh, but meanwhile Dean still probably thinks I'm in Hell suffering. You couldn't, you know, pop in and let him know I'm okay?"

The archangel gives a frown as if he is considering Sam's request. "Sorry, kinda got my wings clipped."

"What's that mean?"

"Can't leave Heaven. Sucks too, I was so hoping to catch up with Kali, finish our little reunion. Look, there's nothing you can do about the communication beyond the veil thing. It's not like people haven't tried. But you should know that any ghost activity comes from spirits who haven't left the Earth. And you, like me, are here. So we're incommunicado Sammy, suck it up and deal."

"I forgot what you're like when you're bitter. Fun for hours."

"Sam, as exceptional as your company is..." Gabriel rolls his eyes before continuing. ..."Why don't you ask me what you really want to know."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Lucifer fry the brain cells in that thick head of yours? How? Why? Ringing any bells?"

"I was just relieved to not be there any longer, why beat myself up wondering how I came to be in Heaven. I'm guessing God wants me here, and you here too."

"Maybe. Sure wasn't me who saved your ass. Wanna know what the cage was like?"

"Way I figure, it was mental trickery. Lucifer kept calling it his Matrix. If I made something one way, better, he'd pop up and make it nasty again."

"Makes sense. Can't imagine wanting to spend eternity knowing you were wedged in a box so small you can't move. And to have to share it with your enemy, the one you once loved the most. Unbearable."

"So Michael and Lucifer are actually trapped in a box too small for them?"

Gabriel looked uncharacteristically somber. "Angels, as creative in torture as Medieval humans. So, what was it like? How's Michael taking his time out?"

"Let's say it was impossible to distinguish between the two of them."

"Already? I figured, over time." Gabriel suddenly looked serious, distracted. "See you around." Within the blink of an eye, he is gone.

xxxxx

Over the next weeks, or months, Sam and Bones fall into a routine. There is always food and drink. Dog toys, aplenty, who could deny man's best friend a pleasurable afterlife, and kibble too. Sam and Bones run daily, but never see another, neither human or canine. On one particularly mundane day, it begins to rain. As Sam and Bones make their way back to the trailer, they spot a girl carrying an enormous umbrella. When she offers to share with them, they invite her home.

Minutes into thinking he might get lucky in the afterlife, Sam's hopes crash and burn as the girl morphs into Gabriel. Sam alternately looks startled and pissed.

"Well hello, Sunshine!" He takes in the sight of a pot collecting water in the middle of the living room. "See you haven't upgraded your digs. You know there are some pretty prime pieces of real estate up here. In ground pools, Jacuzzi, even streets paved with gold if that's your thing."

"What, are you selling time shares?" Bones chooses that moment to shake himself dry all over Gabriel and Sam watches as the archangel snaps his fingers and changes into dry clothing. He's not impressed. He's had enough of archangels to last his entire afterlife, but like a typical unwanted guest, Gabriel makes himself comfortable by snapping his fingers again and giving himself a recliner. The performance is so identical to the one Lucifer gave him in Hell he worries about what will come next from Gabriel's mouth, and whether he'll find himself plunged in darkness again.

The archangel notices his wan expression and gives a half snort. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Just how close were you with your brothers?"

"Very. At first it was just the four of us, and it was the good life. Other angels came along, but we were in charge. The big kahunas. Until, you know." Gabriel frowns. "Why the sudden interest in my family?"

Sam wishes he hadn't started this particular conversation. He's met three of the archangels and knowing even one of them is reason to be very afraid.

"It wasn't my idea you know?" Gabriel continues, and although he is cloaked in this human visage Sam once knew as the Trickster, his Grace rolls off him like a force of nature. Sam finds himself drifting in it's wake.

"What?" Sam asks dreamily.

"The cage thing, Hell." The angel clarifies. "I voted Lucifer off the island. I said, _let him wander, he'll cool off_. Maybe he would have, maybe not. Never had the time to figure it out. Far as Raphael and Michael were concerned he was interfering too much with humans, tempting, manipulating, doling out his own brand of justice."

"Sounds a lot like you."

"He was my big brother. You know how that feels, to wanna be just like your bro?" Sam nods.

"I love my brothers, but Michael and Raphael have a serious poker up the ass problem. There's no give and take for them." Sam remembers how Gabriel looked, trapped in a ring of holy fire in that old warehouse. How talking about his brother's drained the mirth right out of the usually droll being. It was like that now, even though the story he told happened many millennia ago.

"Raphael built Lucifer's cage. I know what you're thinking. It takes some sort of sick creativity to make something like that for your own brother. But we did what we had to. And Michael was the one who set the seals."

"So if Raphael built the cage and Michael locked the door. Why is it that _you _look so guilty?"

"Because I'm the one who lured Lucifer into that cage. We all played our part in betraying him."

"And that's why you left?"

"Pretty much. Heaven just wasn't any fun after that. It was my turn to take a tour of duty down on Earth. Found me a willing bunch of pagans who were glad to make me their god, and I never looked back."

"Until Dean and I tripped the apocalypse, and blew your cover."

"And don't forget, you got me killed for saving for your asses. You owe me big time."

"That's why you're here?"

"Maybe. We never properly finished our conversation. I believe I was endowing you with my Heavenly wisdom. You think God bounced you from the pit? I'd go there. But you're asking the wrong question. You wanna know why? Ever think that maybe he isn't finished with you yet."

"Finished? I think I've given enough."

"That's what they all say, but the truth is, you aren't like other humans, you're practically part of a breeding program, and you might get a vacation upstairs, but ultimately. Your work is never done."

"I think I liked you better as a Trickster. Seems you might be hiding from the rest of Heaven, but you're up to something." Sam leans over the recliner, inches from Gabriel's face. "I'm done being a pawn. As far as I'm concerned. I've played my role. I'm finished. Now go!"

In the middle of thinking "_Dean would be proud of me for standing up to the douche with wings_" the world goes white.

xxxxx

When Sam fights his way back to consciousness, the first sense to return is touch. He can feel warm sand beneath his bare feet. The air smells fresh and clean, and a little bit salty. Somewhere in the distance he hears a dog bark. Even without his vision he knows the sound of Bones and he calls to him. His vision at first is hazy, but as it clears he sees two figures approaching, and one is most definitely female.

Remembering all too clearly Gabriel's affinity with body swapping, he is cautious as she approaches. But she is the perfect woman, and as she nears him, he hopes desperately that she is the real thing, because this woman is none other than the love of his life, Jessica.

She is leading Bones down the beach with a leash. Sam doesn't dare ask where she came from, he doesn't need to know. He runs to her and takes her in his arms. She feels real as her lips gently touch his. He pushes her back at arm's length. "Gabriel?"

"What? Who's that? I've been waiting for you back at the house. You said you'd only be a minute. But I knew Bonesy would find you, wouldn't you , you good dog." She dissolves into human to canine drivel as the dog rolls to his back for a belly rub. Sam is still staring at her when she returns to her full height.

"Hello!" she waves her hand before his face . "Anybody home?" when Sam's only reply is a grunt her face grows wary. "You okay, baby? You don't rally seem here." She seems as real as the dog, so Sam takes her hand and follows her back up the beach.

There is only one house there, sitting too close to the water for Sam's taste. He's seen this house before, with it's stilt support and glass walls, but he can't place where. Jessica takes Sam inside the palatial home and leads him to a bathroom twice the size of his old trailer.

"I hope the water's still warm." Jessica dips her hand in and smiles. She eases her blouse from her shoulders and turns to Sam and begins to unbutton his shirt. He's still speechless and staring as she unzips his pants and pulls them to the floor.

xxxx

Turns out, the beach house is Jessica's, culled from one of her happy memories and part of her personal Heaven. But Sam doesn't believe this at first. He thinks she might be a replica in _his_ Heaven and not real at all. There is only one way to find out, and he isn't sure it's full proof, but it'll have to suffice.

One gorgeous day (and they all are, this is Heaven after all) Sam and Jess are lounging on their deck, relaxing to the sounds of the gentle ocean surf, when Sam voices the question that's been nagging him since he met her in this afterlife.

"Do you remember your death?"

Jessica is so still, for a moment Sam fears she truly is a mirage and will waver like some sci-fi hologram and then disappear. But she opens her mouth, at first wordlessly, then, without looking towards Sam , begins.

"I was gonna say yes."

"You knew? How'd you know I was looking at rings?"

"Oh, I didn't know that. But I loved you, I could only picture my future with you in it. And I was pretty sure you felt the same; so I knew it was a matter of time. When your brother showed up and you stood by me...well that told me a lot." She looked at him then, but the memory was bittersweet. That night was the last they saw of each other.

"When you called me to say you were on your way home, I decided to bake you cookies. I'd just finished when the doorbell rang. Thought maybe you'd forgot your key, but it was Brady. Remember him?"

"Jess, you don't have to-"

"No, I want to."

"I thought Brady was using again. He came in and, he was all aggressive. He sounded like he'd completely lost his mind, spouting about some demonic plan, and how you'd step up if you weren't so whipped. I told him you would be home any minute, he should leave."

"If I'd gotten home earlier." Sam notices fresh tears on Jessica's face. "Did he hurt you?" She nods in confirmation and continues.

"He chased me into the bedroom, I thought he was going rape me, but turns out, that's not what he wanted. The last thing I remember was being slammed into the wall, like by some invisible force. I couldn't help but look at him. Sammy, his eyes were black. He laughed. He laughed, like he was having fun."

"He was possessed. A demon killed you Jess. And I should have been there to stop it. I'm sorry."

"You're a demon hunter?"

"Among other things."

"Why are you here, dead?" Sam attempts to tell Jessica the abbreviated and less traumatic version of his life since her death. It comes out too clinical and in the end she is walking the deck, pacing actually, and a bit angry."

"I call BS. I know you. And I know how you always liked to change the subject when it was about family. Never really wanted to let me know what was really going on. So, are you going to be honest? Or are you going to paint me a pretty picture?"

"Okay. First off, I'll never lie to you. We were raised to not tell the family business, so I'm sorry. It's ingrained. Dean and me, we got caught up in some angel business-"

"Wait, angels are real?"

"We're in Heaven, and you're asking me if angels are real?"

"It's not like I've ever seen one." Sam thinks of how Lucifer used the visage of Jessica to tempt him, again realizing that there were some pieces of information he was better off not sharing.

"They are real, and here in Heaven, and some on Earth too. And, they wanted an apocalypse, but Dean and I stopped them."

"Wow, that really sheds a lot of light on what you were doing."

"Sun's gone down, wanna go for a twilight swim?"

"Are you an idiot, or do you think I am? We're not leaving this deck until you give me some answers."

Sam Winchester remembers why he loved Jessica Moore. She never put up with his bullshit.

It's the darkest of night when Sam is done telling Jessica everything about his life and deaths during the five years they'd been apart. Satisfied by his candor, Jessica steps into the house and beckons Sam to follow.

"I should make you sleep on the couch, but you came clean, and that's what I wanted, so..."

"You don't have to do this. I spent years lying to you, you tangled with me, I got you killed. I should leave."

"Sam, no. I'm not going to lie, you're complicated, but still you. I still love you."

"You're too good for me." And with that, the two of them kissed and forgave.

xxxxx

Months pass, or years, each day lighter than the one before. Sam has worked hard to regain Jessica's trust. He's shown her how to manipulate their after world. She isn't ask skilled at bringing her imaginations to life as he, but they have fun finding new ways to adventure. Days are long in the after life, and their passing not as synchronous as on Earth. So it is one day, while Sam and Jess are watching an old black and white movie on their TV, that they find themselves at the end of their fantasy.

A storm comes, beating rain against the glass walls of their sanctuary. As they look to the distance large dark clouds obscure the sky and the wind creates monstrous sized waves. In short, this looks nothing like Heaven.

"Demons can't come here, can they?"

"No, but remember what I told you about angels?"

"What can we do?" Jessica jumps as the TV goes snowy, then pops, leaving an acrid burned plastic smell in the air.

"Stay calm, they won't hurt you. It's me they want."

"Oh my God!" Jessica is pointing to the window. Bones, who had been napping, is now awake and alert. His ears plastered against his head as he takes an aggressive stance of protection.

"What"

"There's a huge wolf on the deck!"

Before Sam can respond, a booming voice speaks from the other side of their door.

"Let me in or I'll blow this house down. Don't think I can't."

"And risk outing yourself. I doubt it."

There is silence on the other side of the door. Sam steps back towards Bones who's lips still quiver in fright. And the dog has a right to his apprehension when the door blows off it's hinges. An enormous wolf rides it flat to the floor. Bones whimpers, tucks tail, and flees the room. Jessica springs into action and grabs a poker from the hearth.

"How do we kill it?" She shouts. Sam's response makes no sense to her.

"You proved your point. Mind morphing into something little less clichéd?"

Jessica doesn't flee the room like Bones, but she isn't stepping any closer to the door either. "Sam, you're having a conversation with a wolf."

"That's not a wolf, it's an angel, specifically the archangel Gabriel." Sam's voice rises as continues. "Who chooses disguises because he doesn't have the stones to man up and run Heaven."

Something between a growl and words comes from the mouth of the wolf as he rises up on his hide legs and begins to transform. Sam notices this being is already taller than him and that's when it dawns on him that Gabriel is taking his true form.

"Jessica, cover your eyes, don't look at him!" Sam doesn't take his own advice. He's seen archangels in Hell, and he figures this can't be any different. Gabriel's true form is slightly different from his brothers. His wings and skin are the same oily black and horns protrude from his head. But there is something softer, almost sad about the expression all four of his eyes carry. Sam can't help but find himself filled with a sort of compassion.

"This is the real me. No more hiding, but that goes for both of us."

Gabriel's Grace is so overpowering, and intoxicating, that Sam is no longer aware of Jessica's presence in the room. The archangel speaks in his native Enochian tongue, and though Sam can not distinguish the words, he somehow comprehends their meaning.

In his angelic state Gabriel is less the jokester, more to the point. Or maybe that's just the way the Enochian translates into Sam's head.

"There's a storm brewing on Earth."

"So, what do you want me to do about it."

"I want you to shut up and listen. Raphael isn't satisfied. He's always been a bit of a loaner, preferred to do things his own way. Not rebellious like Lucifer, or even me, but independent. Seems my brother is pretty pissed things didn't go as planned."

"You mean that he was wrong, that his whole belief in destiny turned out to be a load of crap."

"His take on things can be a bit sanctimonious. I won't argue with you there, but that's not my point. He's on the move, he's shut down, I can't read him at all."

"Then send some angels to bring him home."

"Look, this isn't _Saving Private Ryan_. This is an archangel gone rogue. And believe me, I'd go get him myself if I wasn't under house arrest. No, I need the two mutton heads who tipped the scales."

"Me and Dean? And you think we can do a better job?"

"I'll bet on the pair that includes the only human to kill an angel, and the one who managed to beat the Devil back into his cage. Is that enough reason for you?"

"No, and the answer is no. You need my consent to use me, and I'm not giving it to you."

"You stupid sack of piss, I'm not asking you to vessel me. I'm not asking you jack squat. I'm telling you the Earth needs you. So man up and go back and deal with the problem."

"The answers still no. I'm done. Finished. Retired! I've done more than my share for Heaven, Earth _and_ Hell. Get someone else."

"Fine". Gabriel turns to leave via the broken door. Just before he's about to cross the threshold, he turns, and in a flash is standing within a hair's breath of Sam. "You'll have your peace, all of this returned to you, including Jessica, after you complete your mission."

Sam is in the middle of repeating no when Gabriel's claw like hand descends on his forehead.

**Epilogue:**

_Early evening, somewhere on Earth._

A man stands stock still on the pavement of a quiet side street. His legs have the unsettled feeling common to stepping off a boat after several hours at sea. His hands flex as he cracks his knuckles, rolls his shoulders and neck as he feels blood pumping , filling his veins, bringing muscle back to life.

It's dark on the street. The man lifts his head and notices the streetlight above him is out. It is early evening, and some of the homes have yet to draw their curtains. The darkness makes it easy to see inside. But there is only one home he is interested in, and he spots it immediately. Inside, there is a family. A child sits with his back to the window, a woman brings a bowl of food to the table, and a man stares into the distance. At the approach of the woman, he stirs and smiles. The family shares their meal with laughter and conversation. This scene is unfamiliar to the man, like something more from a movie than real life. And yet, the characters are familiar. They have names: Ben, Lisa, Dean.

The man is no longer confused. He knows for certain that he's on Earth, alive, human. He loves the man named Dean and wants him to be happy. When Dean tosses a roll to Ben and smiles, the man knows for certain what he must do next.

He's been told he has a job to do. A mission to complete, and a reward at the end of his hard adventure. The sooner he starts, the sooner he'll finish. So Sam Winchester turns on his heel and walks down the road.


End file.
